Haste the Day
by LuminaCarina
Summary: What do you do when you fall through time, knowing that a single breath you take can destroy your own existence? Do you try to fix all that went wrong, or do you let it be? 'Terrible things have happened to witches and wizards who meddled with time,' Hermione whispered in his ear. 'For the Greater Good,' echoed in his heart. Time Travel
1. Prolouge: Pressure the Hinges

**So, a time travel story.**

**No idea why I wrote it, but I guess it's for the same reason I wrote Clay Ballerina's. It wouldn't leave me alone, and once I could no longer sleep, I wrote it down.**

**Warnings:** Um, language, I guess.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, don't own.

It was just a normal day for Harry. Bright sun, blue sky, green grass and all that. Everything was the same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, and so on. Well, with the exception of that one time it rained, but the sentiment was still there.

The only difference to any other day was that he had been sent to help at Hogwarts rather than at the Ministry.

When Kingsley told him of his new workplace, he had just shrugged and did as asked. It wasn't as if it was all that strange, really. He was a newbie, a rookie auror, but due to the lack of any older and more experienced aurors and also thanks to his own accomplishments during the War, he was allowed to take missions of a higher rank than most other aurors his age.

In fact, it was because of his young age that many of his missions were completed without many casualties or property damage. People, even those who didn't recognize him at sight, were more likely to cooperate with a handsome twenty-year-old than with a grizzly old codger.

His assignment at Hogwarts had something to do with escaped Death-Eaters, and he was told that his backup was already waiting on him.

So he put on his beloved boots and apparated to Hogsmeade.

A quick walk to the Three Broomstick later, spent admiring the scenery, and he was standing next to his team. Ron and Neville were there, obviously, as the three of them were hailed as the best team to pass through the Ministry, but he hadn't been expecting to see Dean and Seamus there.

The duo was known for being rather rowdy and boisterous, and for always wearing twin fedora's, but they were overall good aurors. That is, if one wasn't counting the owl and dolly incident, which Harry wasn't.

''How you doing, mate? We haven't seen for ages now!'' Dean clapped him on his shoulder, with Seamus grinning at him from the background. Oddly, every time Harry saw Seamus, he was grinning like a lunatic.

''How's Ginny doing? You two getting back together, or what?''

Figures that would be the first question asked. Harry sighed, his temper plummeting, and glared at the cracked ground, his previous good mood completely forgotten. He did not want to talk about Ginny, not at all. Luckily, Ron came to his rescue.

''Nah, if those two start dating again, I'll eat my hat.''

Now if only he hadn't said it in a way that drew so much attention. The terrible two looked mightily interested in that, and Harry did his best to quell that curiosity, lest they bother him about for the rest of the week.

''She wants to get married, I don't. She wants to start a family, I don't. She got angry, started yelling, I yelled back, and now we're not dating anymore. End of story.''

''So, same old, same old, right?'' Dean asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

Seamus snorted, ''Yeah, but we all know you won't stay apart for long. The second one of you gets lonely, they'll call the other and you'll be a couple again.''

Neville snickered at him, not even trying to hide it, and the others were all grinning.

Harry really wanted to smack them all. The way they said it made his relationship with Ginny sound pathetic.

And it wasn't, it really wasn't. He loved Ginny more than anything else, but that didn't mean their romance was all sunshine and daisies. They had their ups and downs, it was just that there were more downs than ups.

The biggest wedge between them was the commitment issue. Harry just didn't see why he had to put a ring on her finger to prove his love for her, and as for kids… He was twenty years old, soon to be twenty one, and that was far too young to become a father. Merlin, he even had problems with remembering to visit Teddy, and he had Andromeda reminding him and bringing the boy to Grimmauld Place every Sunday.

He shook his head like a dog to clear it, and threw a sharp glare at his still laughing companions.

''I'll report you to Greengrass if you keep that up,'' he threatened.

Immediately, they paled and looked at him with betrayal in their eyes. They knew that he would do it as it wasn't the first time he made that promise. The memories of the many times he went through with his promise flittered through his head, and he smiled a bit, his spirit suddenly lifted.

Daphne Greengrass was a total bitch, despite her pretty face. She could out-shriek Walburga Black, and was known to be a major tattle-tale. She was Kings' secretary, though, and was utterly loyal to the minister. Many were placing bets to see how long it would take for Kingsley to figure out she was in love with him, and then to reciprocate.

His grumbling team reached Hogwarts pretty soon, with minor difficulties such as thorny bushes and an over-excited dog.

They were greeted by the Headmistress and the former Head of Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall. She was still just as severe and stately as they remembered her, even if her hair was now completely white.

She was staring at him with something strange in her eyes, a kind of surprise and… sudden enlightenment? He frowned at her, wondering if she was feeling alright.

''Potter,'' she finally said, ''Weasley, Longbottom, Thomas, Finnigan. I'm glad you're here.''

Harry somehow got the feeling that she really wasn't, but then again, the Gryffindors had always been the biggest troublemakers in Hogwarts, and from what he gathered, his generation outdid all others before them.

''So what's the problem?''

She gave a tiny sigh and led him to the Great Hall, which was filled with children and professors. They were all talking to one another, and despite the fact that they were all whispering, together they created a cacophony of noise. Harry noted a large black curtain hanging above the staff table, in place of the Hogwarts banner.

McGonagall shot silver sparks from her wand to gain their attention, and once the first few students looked at them, it didn't take much for them all to become quiet and attentive. Soon they were all looking at them with awe, glancing at their auror badges with badly disguised want. Harry was more than a little glad that his new hairstyle had done its job and made him a bit less recognizable.

''Thank you all for your calmness, we, the faculty, have appreciated it very much. Panicking would have not helped us at all. Now, a team of aurors has arrived, and they will take over the investigation. I hope you will remain just as calm as you are now while they question the professors, and that you will answer them if they ask for your input. I will not tolerate any shindigs, and you can be sure a month of detentions will await the one who even tries to lie. Do I make myself clear?''

Nobody even peeped, and Harry had to hand it to her, she had somehow got even better at commanding a room. If only he knew how to do it.

She waved them over, making them all feel like students again, and they took the floor. Harry coughed lightly into his fist, feeling rather uncomfortable with all the eyes following him, and started.

''So, like the Headmistress said, we'd be grateful if you cooperated. Ron and Dean here will go through you all and get your statements, while Neville will talk to the ones who actually know what happened beyond what you were told by the professors. Seamus will take care of keeping the peace. Please, be honest with us even if you incriminate yourself or your friends. We'll find out the truth eventually, and if you're not guilty, nothing will happen to you. The smallest detail could be important.''

Still unsure of what the problem was, Harry went to McGonagall. With the same odd, sad look in her eyes, she told him everything she knew without him even having to ask.

''The teachers came down for breakfast as usual, around seven o'clock. I had paperwork to do, so I was going to be a little late, when I got a patronus from Septima telling me to come down immediately. When I came, the first thing I noticed were the sobs. There were still only a few students here, perhaps a dozen or so, and many of them were either crying or comforting their tearful friends. The teachers were all upset as well. When I asked about the problem, Pomona showed me… this.''

She lifted up the black curtain to show him what was underneath. For a moment, Harry was struck dumb, but he was quickly filled with fury. Painted onto the wall was the Dark Mark. It was unmistakable, even if the skull and snake symbol was red instead of the usual black.

''We couldn't remove it, and after a while, we decided to stop trying. You aurors would have been cross with us if we somehow disturbed it, so we covered it, to calm the children down, but Har– Harry… the mere idea of the Mark is enough for many of them to lose their heads. You heard the noise they were making, and almost none of them had even seen it with their own eyes. Thankfully, we stopped them from panicking, but this is still far from over. Until the culprit is caught and expelled, there will be no peace in Hogwarts.''

She was chalky white, and Harry was at a loss. What does one do with an incident like this? Even if the perpetrator is caught, it would be enough to cause mass panic. It was about the message it sent, the warning. We're still here, it meant, we still believe and we're still willing to fight.

It made Harry sick. That he would, by some chance, be forced to fight against his old foes again was too much to even think of. He wasn't cut out for peace, yes, but that didn't mean he revelled in blood and gore. He loved the thrill of the chase, much to Ginny's disgust, but he didn't want for another war to sweep through the land. It would completely destroy them if it did.

He gulped silently, and did something he never would have dared to do had the situation not been so dire. He took McGonagall's hand and gave it a firm squeeze, catching her weary brown eyes with his own green ones.

She was visibly startled, flinching at the abrupt contact, but she soon squeezed his hand back. She suddenly seemed so much older, so much more harried, with an undercurrent of sorrow as strong as the pull of the tide.

''Take care of yourself, Potter,'' she murmured, ''Many are depending on you.''

Harry blinked at that, surprised by the strange request, but she looked so stressed that he decided to just go with it. He nodded and gave her a slight smile, not sure what to say but wanting to show her he understood.

He couldn't just wait around though, so with a final smile he disentangled their hands and went to question the teachers.

They told him basically the same thing McGonagall had, but with minor altercations. They had come down for breakfast around ten to seven, there had been four professors to come in a group – Vector, Sprout, Babbling and Slughorn, the students had actually been in the Hall first, and the students to see the Mark were all Ravenclaws who had come down early to get more time for studying after breakfast.

There hadn't been any suspicious activities going on prior to the incident, and nothing had happened that would help predict such a horrible act of terrorism. It was really vandalism according to the law, but the Ministry, and Harry himself, were more inclined to see it as the work of a terrorist.

It was quite a big job, getting the professors to talk about it, despite the fact that they all wanted the culprit caught. It was mostly because they were so upset. Professor Babbling was the most put together one of them all, and she didn't even know there was a Dark Mark in Hogwarts, so absent-minded she was. Professor Sprout was sobbing though, and it took the combined efforts of Harry and Neville, her favourite student, to calm her down and get her to drink a goblet of water before she ended up getting herself in the Hospital Wing.

''You guys find out anything?''

Ron's voice was unusually sombre, and his freckles stood out on his pale skin in sharp contrast, like raisins on parchment.

''No, nothing.''

Dean's and Seamus' voices were rough, and their faces glum. Harry didn't blame them for losing their composure like that, for he had lost his cool as well.

''We should go through Hogwarts, see if we find anything.''

They all nodded at that, used to listening to Neville in situations like this. Even though Harry was the official and public leader, Neville was the one who made most of the decisions. Harry was a fighter, the one who was unstoppable in a battle, the berserker, while Neville was more suited for planning and strategizing. He was very good at it, too. They were unbeatable when he and Ron worked together to map out their fights.

They split apart to cover more ground in case the evidence or the clues might expire.

Harry took the teachers quarters, wanting to make sure nothing dangerous was there.

He didn't know when it happened, but somehow the school staff had burrowed their way into his heart, and he didn't want them harmed. Probably, he mused to himself, probably he began to view them as family of a sort when he was just a kid, a scrawny eleven-year-old. They welcomed him to Hogwarts, showed him magic, gave him a nice bed, tasty food and a chance to have friends, and even defended him and fought with him during the Final Battle.

Yes, he concluded as he checked their chambers, they gave him more than he had ever dreamt of having, and earned his eternal loyalty.

Course, he could still be grossed out by some aspects of them and their lives, like the fact that professor Hooch's robes were in Slughorn's rooms, but other than that, they were his precious people.

He finally entered McGonagall's rooms, as they were the last chambers to be checked, and was astounded by the shear cleanliness of it. Everything was in order, not a single quill out of place, but Harry could still see that the room was hers.

Knitting equipment was lying in a basket by the fireplace, a jar of gingerbread biscuits was on the desk, and he could see photos in shiny frames littering every flat surface available.

Unable to help himself, Harry took a look at the photos. He recognized many of the people in them, his friends, his parents, his parents' friends, even he was present in some of them. He snorted at the one that showed him with his arm bones removed, realizing it was the one Collin had taken in his second year.

There were some more people there, two men who were embracing McGonagall in an entirely non platonic way, Dumbledore with his crescent shaped eyeglasses, and…

Was that… him?

Harry squinted at the old picture, fiercely staring at the dark haired man who had his arm casually slung over McGonagall's shoulders.

The man was in his mid-twenties or early thirties, with dark, shoulder-length hair and pale eyes, and there was a slight smile playing on his face. McGonagall was smiling warmly in that photo, even if there were some deep wrinkles on her forehead, indicating that the First Riddle War had already begun by that time.

Harry would have mistaken the man for his father, but James Potter had never had eyes that pale, nor had his hair ever reached longer than his ears in any of the photos Harry had seen.

The man looked uncannily like Harry himself, only half a decade older.

He was about to look around for more clues about the man's identity, when a loud scream echoed through the room, seemingly coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Harry whirled around in less than a second, holding his wand defensively in front of himself, trying to see the intruder.

But all he could see was a flash of blue and white before a crushing pressure enveloped him. He couldn't see anything, hear anything and he couldn't even focus on anything other than the pain of his eardrums bursting from the horrible force.

And then, just like that, it was over. His mind was still filled with a pulsing chime, and he suddenly realized that his eyes were screwed shut. He carefully opened them, seeking the offender, when he saw something else.

A wand was pointed at him. A wand held by a slender hand of a woman who had aged well, and looking just a bit further Harry could see her face.

Afraid and angry, no, furious, the face of Minerva McGonagall was staring at him. But it wasn't her face Harry was looking at, oh no. it was her hair. Her sleek white hair which she always wore in a bun was now lying loose on her shoulders, and was completely black.

There was only one thing Harry could think of in a situation like this.

'Bloody Hell.''

**Reviews would be lovely, meaning review people, review! **

**I know it's hard to realize, but commenting won't kill you.**


	2. Introduction: of Mice and Men

**Yay, an update!**

**I hope the chapter isn't too disjointed, I tried to show the other characters and not just Harry. While the story is mostly about him, I'm trying to cover the entire First Wizarding War, along with the lives of those who lived and died during that time.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Marlene took another bite out of her tart, and tried to ignore what was happening around her.

She was sitting next to her mother and baby sister, having a tea party at the Meadowes' and drinking what her mother believed was mint tea, but was actually butterbeer. While it was nice to see Cassie again, and she definitely enjoyed not having to wander around her own house for once, she had to admit that there was nothing interesting about the latest scandal involving the Minister's wife.

Cassie caught her eyes over the edge of a delicate porcelain cup and smiled sadly. 'I know how you feel,' she mouthed, and Marlene was very tempted to throw a fork at her. Cassie most certainly did not know how she felt, nor could she even imagine it.

She had spent her entire summer inside the house, and she even had fight tooth and nail to be allowed to go into the gardens. The gardens, for Merlin's sake! Her mother had just given birth to little Ava, and, in response to her sudden revelation that the world was a dangerous place for kids, had reached new heights of paranoia. Her father wasn't making anything any easier either; he spent his days stumbling around the library, not caring in the least about his wife or his children. And as for Zack, that idiot was only interested in his latest hussy and was almost never home. Marlene would have pulled his ears had he been there, but her foolish brother had his own apartment now. She was kind of glad about that, for seeing him with his girlfriend in bed was not something she wanted to do again.

''I heard it wasn't her only fling, you know. There were some whispers about her and lord Black. And it was around that time when he was pushing through that muggleborn legislation.'' Mrs. Meadowes was leaning forward, eager to share the gossip, and Marlene was embarrassed to see her own mother lean forward as well, a hungry smile on her lips.

Not to be outdone, her mother adjusted Ava's little arms and shared her own knowledge on their new victim. ''Well I hear she's been cheating on him since day one. In fact, Hattie told me there were several rumors about her and her son.'' Marlene was more than a little disturbed to find herself interested in the gossip.

''Oh, do tell.''

''Well, I'm sure you will remember that certain one, the one that was hastily stifled after the poor boy died.'' Her mother was smiling like a shark, and there was nothing pretty about it.

Mrs. Meadowes was frowning, and her mother quickly gave more information. ''You remember, about her cousin, the ambassador's son. The poor boy couldn't have been older than thirteen, and she was what? Twenty? And then he died, leaving behind a heart-broken mother and a father who refused to comment on anything, and not even a month later our dear Florence was disowned from the family. Come on, Darcy, surely you can remember?''

''Well she did marry soon after,'' Mrs. Meadowes allowed, ''and her boy was born prematurely.''

''Aha!'' her mother exclaimed, ''Not prematurely, Darcy old girl, not if you take into the account her cousin. Think about it, if you count like that, then the boy was born right on time. They said he takes after his mother, but I still find it odd that he doesn't have a lick of his father in him. But if his father isn't his father…''

Her mother trailed off, suggestively biting her lip. Mrs. Meadowes was thoughtful, and Marlene just knew that by the end of the day the entire world would be talking about the Minister's illegitimate son.

Dorcas was torn somewhere between horror and amusement, mostly because this was the first time she was hearing their mothers gossiping. She had known that they were the worst kind of 'information-gatherers', but to see it first hand was different. Mortified, she stood up and excused herself, signalling Marlene to follow her.

Once they were in the hallway, away from their mothers' sensitive hearing, she slumped against the wall and groaned.

''Are they always like this?''

Marlene nodded, her eyes dancing with mirth. ''What, you thought they just drank tea? Merlin forbid they ever stop gossiping, I think it would be a sign that the world is ending. You should see them when Mrs. Bones is there, they're nigh unstoppable.''

''Well,'' the brunette finally sighed, ''at least we know who to come to if we ever need blackmail material.''

Marlene glared at her friend with narrowed eyes. ''Will we be needing blackmail material Cassie?''

The taller girl just smirked, and Marlene was once more reminded why even the Marauders feared her best friend. Cassie was a woman possessed when it came to being on top of the food chain, and she stopped at nothing to get what she wanted. Marlene had seen her shooting off a diffindo at a Death-Eater's neck without batting an eyelash, while she herself couldn't even stun the bastards without getting sick.

''Why are you so queasy about gossip anyway?'' she inquired.

Cassie blinked at her and then shrugged. ''I don't know. It's just, it's weird. I don't like it. Why do you want to spread lies about people? If you can't get them to submit without all the whispering and gossip-mongering, then it's not the same. You didn't earn it. It's not… It's not fair.''

She felt a slow grin spreading on her lips, and she suddenly understood all the stupid things Dorcas had done. All the times when Cassie should've done one thing, but had done the other, and she finally understood that it was all because her friend was, deep down, noble.

''What are you smirking about?'' she asked darkly, and Marlene bit down a smile.

''Oh nothing, nothing. Just thinking.''

''Well stop it, it's bloody annoying.'' Cassie snapped, storming off in the direction of her bedroom, stomping up the stairs so hard dust was flying up.

Marlene considered going back to the party, but she soon decided against it. She was hungry for freedom, and if she had to deal with a petulant Dorcas to have it, then so be it. It's not like she hadn't dealt with her friend's fickle nature before.

She went up the stairs, not stopping to admire Cassie's baby pictures, and found her way to the room Cassie called her own. It was a nice room, with big windows and brightly coloured walls, and it would've been beautiful had Dorcas not completely messed it up by leaving around everything from dirty clothes to mouldy food.

She gingerly sidestepped a discarded pair of pink knickers, and joined the brunette on the bed.

''Why are you so upset?'' she asked, ''What happened?''

Dorcas sniffed, and mumbled something out, but Marlene had no idea what.

''Could you say that again please?''

''I said, Emily died.'' Cassie's voice was loud and it echoed uncomfortably in the quiet room.

Marlene didn't know what to say. She hadn't really known Emily, but the muggleborn was very smart, even if she wasn't really pretty. Cassie hadn't been close to her either, but the girls had shared a dormitory for six years, and they had seen each other every day. Emily was also Benjy's girlfriend, and Marlene had no idea how the usually dour Ravenclaw would react.

''I…''

''Oh, shut up!'' Dorcas threw a pillow at the windows, and there was an odd moisture in her eyes, ''It's not like we knew her.''

''Then why are you crying?'' she blurted out.

The second she said that she wanted to slap herself. Cassie was looking at her as if she was seeing her for the first time, and it hurt to have such a look directed at her.

''I'm so sorry, Cassie, I didn't mean to-''

''Shut up,'' her friend muttered into her lap, locking her pale arms around her waist, ''just shut up.''

xxx

It was horribly hot outside, so much so that he wanted nothing more than to go back inside and have a glass of ice cold water, or better yet, butterbeer. Sweat was dripping down his face and stinging his eyes, and he didn't even want to think of the nasty sight he must make. And to think that his family was all hidden from the sun, lazing around or, in Marcy's case, with friends in Marseilles. He hadn't even been forced to traipse around looking for herbs. He could've remained in the library, reading his beloved poems. But no, he had to have been the one idiot to volunteer to gather stupid plants for stupid potions for his stupid father.

Caradoc cast yet another cooling charm on himself, feeling like a complete fool, and trudged on towards the eastern gardens. He'd been doing this for over two hours now, and all he had to show for it was a tiny posy of cowbane. Curse his grandmother for her competitive nature! 'I can't have weeds in my garden! They would ruin the atmosphere of peace and beauty I'm creating!' Yeah right. As if they hadn't all known that she was just trying to one up madam Longbottom and her new rose garden.

He finally reached his destination, and he immediately collapsed on the bench. It was hidden from view by large bushes with orange flowers, so he wouldn't have to deal with his sisters bothering him.

''The summer sun was not meant for boys like me,'' he groaned, ''boys like me belong to the rain.''

''What are you mumbling about, Carrie?'' came a creaking, shivering voice, ''It seems to me that your head is up in the clouds again.''

Caradoc sighed, and scooted to the side. His grandfather wobbled the five steps to where he was sitting and then flopped down onto the bench with a satisfied ''Oomph''. His thick woollen robes gave off an impressive cloud of cat hairs and Caradoc had to throw himself to the side to avoid the heavy cane his grandfather always carried around.

Tristan Dearborn's eyes widened when he saw his grandson lying on the ground and he laughed a deep belly laugh. ''Well I'll be damned. It seems like you're as far away from the clouds as you can be. Get up boy, we don't have time for you to be lazing about.''

Caradoc got to his feet and ignored his grandpa's comments. The old man had fought in the war against Grindelwald, and sometimes he acted like he never left the battlefield. There was always something to do, some mission to accomplish, and there was never any time for relaxation.

''Yes, grandpa, what is it?'' he asked exasperatedly.

''Hmph. You young ones today have no will to do anything,'' the man complained, ''You just want to read and dance and read and dance and read some more. No time for work, just play. Why when I was your age my father would've had my hide if I even thought about playing. My mother was no gentle lady either. But nowadays, my silly daughter and my pushover son let you children run around like savages. I would've –''

''Is that all, grandpa?'' he interjected tiredly, ''I have to gather cowbane for father.''

''Oh, don't even get me started on Galahad's little projects. Really, potions? As if there aren't enough dungeon rats out there.'' His grandpa was nodding to himself, a rather ugly expression on his turtle-like face.

Caradoc felt strangely pleased at this description of his father.

''Wait, galloping gorgons, I almost forgot,'' The old man exclaimed, ''Maggie sent me to tell you that you'll be going to Diagon Alley this week. She said something about school supplies.'' He paused suddenly with a confused blink. ''Didn't we buy those last month?'' he hummed to himself.

''Supplies? And we're going this week? Sweet!'' Caradoc was officially in a good mood. ''And no, grandpa, we bought Marcy and Gwen's supplies last month. We have yet to buy mine.''

''Well,'' Tristan rose to his feet unsurely, and the only reason Caradoc didn't help him was because his grandpa hated being weak. And to even imply he wasn't able to walk on his own was the worst insult imaginable. ''I'll be going back inside. Maggie's being a virulent harpy again, and she won't stop bothering me. Better I don't aggravate her. You'll be joining me for a game of chess tonight, Carrie? I won't take no for an answer.''

His grandpa's blue eyes twinkled, and Caradoc simply nodded. There was no point in arguing after all, besides, he kind of liked playing chess with his grandpa. He was the only one his grandpa played chess with at all, and he liked having something no one else in his family had.

He took one look at the stupid cowbane in his hands, and quietly cursed. He had to go weed-picking again.

xxx

Sian Bones clenched her hands firmly, careful to appear the way a proper lady should. Her husband, on the other hand, had no qualms about showing his anger. His face was a mottled red, and she idly wondered if his heart was acting up again.

The Minister was once again refusing to allow the Aurors to use the Unforgivables to apprehend the Death-Eaters. His primary reason was that the Ministry couldn't be seen using those curses for the general populace would see them as the same kind of scum the Death-Eaters were.

His argument had merit, Sian allowed. To let the Aurors do such things could easily be the end of their relatively free culture, not to mention the problems, both physical and mental, that the Aurors could develop.

Hard-core light wizards like her husband wanted to take down the Death-Eaters no matter the cost, but they failed to see what such actions would cost. If He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named found that the Aurors were using the Unforgivables, he would make it into an example of the Ministry's hypocrisy. He would use it to gain more followers, even among the Aurors too weak to resist the siren's call that was dark magic.

But even though she knew the risk, she was still inclined to let the Aurors use them. It would allow for faster, easier and more ruthless battles instead of the small scale, but property destructive squirmishes they had now. Currently, she was willing to vote for demon summoning if it would help them win the War.

Sadly, Kaisa Cor didn't see it that way. He was a morally upright man, who wanted to do the right thing and who believed that the good would prevail no matter what. He was a good leader, kind and charismatic, who truly had the well-being of his country in mind, but he most definitively didn't know how to make tough decisions during war-time.

He had spent eight years in the office, and was beloved by the people, but Sian knew that he would have to be removed from the Ministry despite all the good he did. For the Greater Good, she would put someone else in his chair.

xxx

Harry slowly put his hands in the air, cautiously regarding professor McGonagall as she backed away from him as if he were some dangerous animal.

''Who are you?'' she screeched, her entire body trembling along with her voice. ''What do you want? How did you get here?''

Harry licked his lips and decided to follow the Ministry protocol that was in place for situations like this.

''My name is Harry James Potter, age twenty. I am an Auror working for the British Ministry. I mean you no harm, and my arrival here was an accident caused by unpredicted complications during a mission. Will you let me hand over my wand and show you my badge?''

She waivered, terror warring with caution. Finally, she nodded her assent.

He slowly, so very slowly pulled out his wand, doing his best not to make any sudden movements. McGonagall tensed when he reached into his robes, and she promptly snatched his wand away the second she could see it. Feeling more assured, she motioned for him to hand over his badge.

He did so, and she snatched it away even faster than she did with his wand. Harry was rather impressed with her speed, and he wondered for a moment whether she was a seeker when she was at still at school.

''This says 2001.'' Her dark eyes were incredulous and she was looking at him with a lot less fear than before. ''Why does it say 2001?''

''Because it was given to me when I became an Auror in the year of 2001.'' She was still looking at him as if he was a lunatic, so he quickly elaborated. ''The complication during my mission was actually a magical accident, quite possibly a catastrophe, which involved me falling through time.''

''Are you crazy? You don't honestly expect me to believe that to be true. It is far more likely that you are here to either kill me or rob me, or to invade Hogwarts. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just stun you and call the Aurors, the actual Aurors.''

She wouldn't stun him. Maybe if she was absolutely certain he was an intruder with malicious intent rather than a time-traveler, but then, if she believed him to be such a person he would already be knocked out. She was unsure currently, and he had to make her trust him.

''Your name is Minerva Isobel McGonagall, you are the Head of the Transfiguration Department here at Hogwarts, and you're a cat animagus.'' She was still glaring at him, and he had to admit that anyone could know those things. So he upped the ante. ''You enjoy needlework and knitting, your favourite food are gingerbread biscuits and your favourite Quidditch team are the Montrose Magpies. When you were young, you often used a crude form of Legilimency, akin to the Imperius curse, to control your family's cat.''

She was staring at him in shock, but one who didn't know her wouldn't be able to tell. It took a minute for her to compose herself, but once she did, she was back in her role as a strict teacher.

''Mr. Potter, I have no idea what you got yourself into, but if you truly are the son of a certain someone, then I am sure it is much bigger than you anticipated. If you would please explain yourself, and fast, I do not tolerate laziness.''

Harry did, he sat down in one of the chairs and told her everything he knew about his accident, including his suspicion about Death-Eater involvement. It was fine line he was walking, between giving her the needed information and keeping the future a secret, but he thought he did a good job.

Through it all, Minerva McGonagall was stern and poised, doing her best to untangle the story to the best of her abilities.

**I hope the characters, especially McGonagall, aren't too OOC. I did my best, and while I wrote Minerva differently in the first version of this chapter, my sisters got into a fight over her characterisation and bullied me into making her like this.**

**Marlene, Dorcas and Caradoc as well, I portrayed them the way I see them and from the information I found on Harry Potter Wiki.**

**If you have comments or questions, feel free to review or PM me.**

**Toodles, LC.**


	3. Chapter 1: All This and Heaven Too

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**So, the story is finally beginning. I have a bad feelin that it'll be quite long. Just to remind everyone, I'm lazy and don't have a set schedule for updates. Now that that's out of the way, enjoy the story.**

Benjy blankly stared at his mother, who was doing her best not to cry. Her face was pale and stressed, and she kept wringing her hands violently. He didn't notice any of that though, because his mind was slow and fuzzy, and he was so shocked that he could barely comprehend her words.

''Emily…'' He coughed suddenly, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. ''Emily is… dead?''

His mother nodded and took a short step towards him, but he quickly got out of her reach. He couldn't believe it. His Emily, his Emma, with her blue eyes and tanned skin and genius mind was, was dead? It just couldn't be. She was the epitome of liveliness, the poster child for brilliant girls. It was impossible for her to be dead. There was no way God would punish him like this, not when he had done nothing to warrant such retribution. He went to church whenever he could, prayed every evening before going to bed, and while Emma wasn't as devoted as he was, she was certainly no sinner.

'But you do have your magic', a voice whispered in the back of his mind, and though he immediately squashed it, he couldn't help but wonder. '_Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live'_ echoed in his heart, and he inwardly acknowledged the point.

''Baby, honey, sweetheart,'' his mother reached for him again, and this time let her wrap her arms around his shoulders. Her grip felt heavy and cold. ''Please, don't blame yourself, please Benny, Emma wouldn't want you to something like that, and I don't know what I'd do if you started blaming yourself. It was a murder Benny, nothing you could do about, nothing anyone could do about. If anyone's to blame it's the Death-Eaters, so don't you ever give me that look again, you hear me?''

He was partially aware of muttering out an agreement, and the second she let go of him he dragged himself to his room. He felt odd, both trapped inside his body and floating somewhere above it, and for the first time in his life he could feel his magic. It was rolling around him, beneath his skin, both a raging inferno and a serene river. It was not in his blood or his flesh, nor was it inside his bones, but everywhere at the same time. It constantly went through him, a part of it being released into the air, and he realized that it was keeping him alive.

His Ravenclaw brain was quick to pounce on this idea and seize it, but he was too out of it now to consider its implications. Emily was dead. Dead, dead, dead. As dead as a doornail. He hadn't even been invited to the funeral. Funny, he had always believed he would be the first one to die between the two of them, and it wasn't because of some romantic idiocy. He was a Ravenclaw, so was Emily, and they both knew better than to start believing those silly ideas.

No, it was because of their different natures. Emily was quiet, poised and calm, and had a terrible fear of adventures, while he enjoyed trips and travels that would get him close to his subject. Astronauts and astronomers, he heard somewhere. But now Emma was dead and he didn't know what to do about it.

He wasn't going to fall apart like some imbecilic Gryffindor who didn't know that death was part of the cycle of life, but he would also never let go of Emma's memory.

He was no fighter, he didn't know how to destroy Emma's murderers, and it was a sin to even consider becoming an avenger, but there was something inside him that was howling for blood. 'It was a murder Benny,' his mother whispered in his ears, 'If anyone's to blame it's the Death-Eaters.' He bit down his tears and prayed for forgiveness. But even as he did so, he knew that he would do anything to avenge Emma. The difference between Heaven and Hell meant very little to him now, for he would trade everything he had to get his friend back.

''All this and Heaven too,'' he said to himself, scoffing a little at his own stupidity, but it was too late to change his mind now. Emily had hated his whimsical nature, and it would be very bad form to be unable to decide about something like this.

Her face flashed before his eyes, in one of her rare bouts of laughter, and he smiled a bit. His lips soon turned downwards again as he considered the sheer meaninglessness of her death. A simple Avada Kedavra and she was dead. It wasn't like the death of Edgar's parents, when they tortured his father and raped his mother, but it hurt just as much.

But Edgar wouldn't understand his wish for revenge. He was a Hufflepuff, and his loyalty was to his living family and not the dead one. No, Edgar wouldn't understand and would try to talk him out of it, but Jareth… Jareth, on the other hand, he would understand. Jareth had lost his two brothers to the Death-Eaters, and so he would help him if he asked.

Benjy still hesitated though, because Jareth had a wife now, and it wasn't fair to the woman to drag her husband away from her. He would send a letter, he decided, and he would word it so that Jareth had a choice in the matter. That way both he and Jareth's wife would be getting a chance.

He grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment and started.

_Dear Jareth,_

_I'm sorry to disturb you on your honeymoon, but I have a favour to ask. Emily is dead, killed and…_

xxx

Caradoc huffed as his sister dragged him around in a tizzy. Gwen was so excited about finally starting school, especially since she would be joining him at Hogwarts rather than following Marceline to Beauxbatons. Her books had already been bought, and the only thing she had yet to get was her own wand.

His own books were mostly at home as well, but he had to buy potions ingredients, herbology plants and a new cauldron. He was also looking forward to buying more books for the family library – a new tanaka book from Keiko Hisoka had just been translated to English.

''Come on, brother!'' Gwen whined, ''I want to get my wand!''

He took one look at her flushed face and the mulish expression on it and gave up with a sigh.

''Fine, you demanding little goblin, but don't you want to get an ice-cream first?''

She perked up at the mention of ice-cream, happily chattering away about how she and Garth and cousin Mary were going to be in the same House, and how horrible that muggleborn at the bank had been, and can she get a toad instead of an owl, and on and on and on. All in all, she followed after him in relative peace.

Florean Fortescue's ice-cream parlour was positively bursting with people, and in the scuffle that ensued when Caradoc cut into the line to buy Gwen her raspberry and peanut ice-cream, he bumped into Dirk. His Gryffindor friend almost started cursing, but he stilled his tongue when he caught sight of his sister. Gwen was watching him curiously, and Caradoc could tell that Dirk was feeling self-conscious.

''Carrie?'' he asked, ''I haven't seen you all summer. Where have you been?''

Caradoc smiled at him and pulled him and Gwen outside, away from the angry customers. ''At home. Mother wouldn't let me leave, because of, you know, the Dark Lord and all. I hear almost everyone was contained by their parents. Well, Dorcas wasn't, but then again, one would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to doubt her ability to take care of herself.''

Dirk nodded distractedly, ''Yeah, yeah. Say, have you heard from Aarampali?''

''Um, no, I don't think so.'' He frowned, ''But, maybe she went to India? She's been speaking of visiting family for a while now. You didn't get a letter from her at all?''

Dirk shook his head miserably, his shoulders drooping. ''We had that fight, you know. She's been pretty angry with me, and all the letters I sent her came back unopened. I tried to owl her parents, I even tried to get in contact with her brother, but nothing. I'm really worried. You hear all this stuff about attacks and disappearances, and she won't answer me…I'm just panicking.''

Caradoc understood that. The Dark Lord was targeting everyone at random, and he seemed to get more and more insane as time went on. Aarampali never said anything about her stance on this war, but she could still be in danger. And with Pugh's recent death they had cause for worry.

''Hey, come on.'' He tried to comfort him, ''I'm sure she's fine. You'll see her on the train and you'll make up, and it'll all be fine.''

''No,'' Dirk argued in a dejected voice, ''we won't make up. We're done for good this time. Her parents don't like the idea of her marrying a muggleborn, and my own parents don't like it that I was dating a girl older than me. We won't get back together, but I was hoping we could be friends, and then I messed it up. Just, I have to go to the bank now. See you at Hogwarts.''

''Hey, wait a minute!'' Caradoc complained, ''You can't go there all depressed. Say, have you decided what NEWTs you'll take?''

Dirk cheered up at that, ''Yeah, I'm thinking of taking history and languages, and arithmancy. I'd like to go into the Ministry after graduation, the goblin liaison, and I need to polish up my gobbledegook. Well, anyway, I really need to go now, I came with Longbottom and you know he'll get huffy if I keep him waiting. Bye, bye!''

Caradoc watched him slink away, and he only refocused on Gwen when she slipped her sticky fingers in his hand, tugging him the direction of Ollivander's.

''Hurry brother, we don't have all day.''

He sighed sadly, wondering when he started indulging Gwen's every whim. His mother often teased him about catering to Gwen, and then would admonish him for ignoring Marcy. But it wasn't his fault. It was just that Marceline was all so sophisticated and fancy, speaking French and drinking champagne from a tall glass. The only time he saw her was when she got bored of tanning and wearing silk, which was almost never. Even though they were twins, they had started drifting away a long time ago – even before they started school. Gwen, however, was always there, clinging to his legs and dragging him around to do her bidding.

''Miss Dearborn, I wondered when I would be seeing you.'' Came from the shadowy corners, and just like when he was an eleven-year-old, Caradoc almost jumped in fright. He hadn't even noticed they'd arrived. Next to him, Gwen squeaked and folded in on herself, suddenly nothing like her usual bratty self.

''And Mister Dearborn as well, why I hope your wand is still serving you well. 14'' lilac wood, with a core of unicorn hair, was it not? A good wand for those with delicate sensibilities and with a predisposition for divination.'' Ollivander turned those silver eyes of his to Gwen, and before Caradoc could blink he was in front of them. ''I wonder Miss Dearborn, I wonder about your wand. From what I can see, you have a fairly complex personality. Rather like my latest customer, now that I think about it. This will take some time I believe.''

He swept away abruptly, grabbing a dozen wands seemingly at random and letting them fall onto the desk and create a loud clatter.

''Try this one, 11 and a half inches, hazel and dragon heartstring core.''

Gwen took it, but before she could even wave it around Ollivander snatched it away.

''No, no, no. Try this one, 12'' elder wood, and a core of a phoenix feather. No, not right, how about this one! 13'' with a core of kelpie hair, try it Miss Dearborn, it's cedar. No! Wait, try this one. It's 10'' ¾, ash and dragon heartstring.''

They spent over an hour in there, with Gwen trying wand after wand only for Ollivander to take them away the second she took them. Finally, it happened. The wand Gwen picked up released a shower of red sparks, and both Caradoc and Ollivander started clapping.

''Excellent, Miss Dearborn, excellent! Splendid! Simply marvellous! 9 and a half inches, hawthorn and dragon heartstring. That is a very strong wand, good for concealing magic and weather working, for those who have good self-confidence.'' He peered at Gwen with that enigmatic smile and then carelessly added, ''Perhaps with a bit too much self-confidence, don't you say?''

And then, before they could react to that insulting comment, he took their money and deposited them outside his shop. They didn't even get to say goodbye and already the door was slamming in their faces.

Gwen traced her fingers over her wand, ''That is one very odd man,'' she said after a pause, and really, what else could she say?

xxx

''Come on, Alice! Hurry up, I want to check out the Apothecary, I hear the prices of dragon scales came down.''

Lily Evans tapped her foot impatiently as her friend rushed around the Quidditch supplies shop, trying to look interested in the selling wares. But she didn't really care about the sport, she was just hoping Frank would be there so that she could talk and clumsily flirt with him. Lily had no idea why; Longbottom, while not as horrid as Potter and Black, was certainly no catch. He was loud and shy, a confusing paradox, and he was so obsessive about Quidditch that I was honestly disturbing. Not to mention how stuffy he could get! Lily did not see the appeal.

''Oh, come on!'' she whined when Alice went on ignoring her.

Finally, the round-faced witch got fed up with her friend's complaints and she rounded on her with all the righteous fury of a woman interrupted while stalking her love interest.

''Oh, so it's all right when it's you who's preying on unsuspecting young men, but when I want to bump into my future husband you get all high and mighty! I don't like your double standards, Evans, not at all!''

The redhead gawked at the flushed witch and immediately started defending herself. ''I do not prey on anyone! And Longbottom is not your future husband, unless you've been keeping very big secrets from me.''

''You can't fool me, Lily. I saw you check out Lupin a month ago. The poor boy looked like he wanted to run away.'' Alice smiled at her in a patronizing manner, ''Not to mention that one time with Reggie. You eyed him like he was a slab of meat on sale. Not that I mind him, he is rather fetching, and you would get quite a popularity boost if you married him.''

Lily blushed to the roots of her hair, and stammered out a response, but Alice didn't hear it. She was too busy staring at something near the back of the shop, where the brooms were kept. Lily followed her line of sight and saw… Potter.

''Really, Allie? Potter? I thought you had more class than that.''

The shorter girl glowered at her. ''It's not Potter, you nagging hag! Can't you see the hair's too short? And, his eyes are green. So it's not Potter. Well,'' suddenly she gained a calculating gleam in her eyes, ''unless Lord Potter had some fun on the side and never told anyone. Really, he looks far too much like a Potter not to be at least a cousin of some sort.''

Lily rechecked the boy in question and saw what Alice had seen. Taller than Potter, shorter hair and green eyes. Thinner that Potter too, and older. He looked to be in his twenties, and, Lily blushed slightly, was not too bad on the eyes. Really, she justified that last thought to herself, it wasn't in the looks department Potter was lacking, it was his personality that disgusted her. But that just made her think of what she'd do if Potter ever got over himself, which made her blush like a tomato just in time for the handsome stranger who might or might not be a Potter to see her. She quickly shut down that train of thought.

Alice jabbed an elbow in her kidney once the stranger started weaving through the crowd in their direction. She gasped for breath slightly, and went to repay the favour, but the brunette nimbly dodged her effort.

''Hello,'' the stranger was in front of them all of a sudden, pretty and smiling, ''excuse me for intruding, but I couldn't help but notice you looking at me. So let me introduce myself; Henry Hart, at your service. But, do call me Harry, eh?''

Alice was a speechless mess next to her, so Lily responded for the both of them.

''Hi, er, sorry for bothering you. I'm Lily Evans and this is my less beautiful friend Alice Abbott. We were wondering about you. Um, you see, you look very similar to one of our classmates.''

She let the sentence die off when she saw the man's face close off. It wasn't much, but it was still a bit different than it'd been mere moments ago. He smiled at them again, a forced polite smile she often saw on Petunia's face when there were guests in the house, and she saw Alice smile triumphantly from the corner of her eye.

''Ah, well, I can assure you I have no family here other than my aunt, and even then the title is honorary, as she we aren't related closely enough for her to be my actual aunt.'' He hefted up a leather bag full of books, ''You might know her, Minerva McGonagall?''

''You're related to professor McGonagall?''

Lily was in awe. The stern transfiguration mistress was her role model. She was everything Lily wanted to be; strong, smart and capable. She looked the man over again and grudgingly admitted that his hair was just as dark as professor McGonagall's, and he was also as tall and lithe as she was. They could be related.

''Oh,'' Alice cut in, ''so are is that why you're here? Because of your aunt, I mean?''

''In a way.'' His face relaxed, but his eyes grew tenser than ever. ''I came to her to get my transfiguration mastery, but I actually returned here because of the war. Wanted to help out, I guess. Not like I had anything else to do anyway.'' He finished with a small laugh.

''And–''

Alice started on another question, but Lily had wasted more than enough time in the thrice damned Quidditch shop. Not to mention how silly the man made her feel. She grabbed the brunette's arm and dragged her away, not heeding her half-hearted attempts at getting free.

''We have to go now, mister Hart. Books to buy–''

''Boys to seduce!''

''Alice!'' she hissed.

But Henry Hart just laughed. ''Go on, I'll be sure to see you at Hogwarts!''

Not stopping to ponder that last statement, Lily waved to him and went on pulling Alice out of the shop.

Harry watched her go out, feeling like the stupidest person on Earth. That was his mother there, and he had just rushed in to talk to her, not caring in the least about the consequences of her getting suspicious. He'd acted like the imbecile Malfoy had always claimed he was.

But she was so beautiful. She was far more perfect than the pictures had made her out to be, even with all the awkwardness she hadn't yet grown out of. And she was different, too. Nothing like he had expected her to be, but then again, he had never known her.

He, along with every other British wizard, had made her into a saint, a Virgin Mary dying for her son. And she was that, or at least would be, but she was also more. Wild, and criticizing, and a bit too free for the time she lived in. He had been boxing her in, constricting her to fit the image he had created, and now he knew better.

And then there was Alice Abbott. Or the one who would become Alice Longbottom soon. Neville's mom. Her hair wasn't yet trimmed to her head in a buzz cut, and she was still a bit plump. Otherwise, she simply seemed younger, healthier and more alive. Of course, the one time he had seen her she was in a hospital gown and completely insane, so he really couldn't judge.

He trailed his fingers over his new wand, a shiny black laurel stick, and considered the risk he was taking. Every action he took could be the end of the world as he knew it, and Merlin forbid he ever erases himself from history. He didn't defeat Voldemort just to die because of his own idiocy.

He would be staying at Hogwarts for a while, at least until he got a transfiguration mastery. McGonagall had pulled a lot of strings to get him papers, and the only reason Dumbledore allowed him into the castle was because they made an unbreakable vow. He had promised never to harm Hogwarts, its student, staff or headmaster, in any way, shape or form. After his study under McGonagall was over… Well, he'd cross that bridge when he got to it.

As for now, he had to buy books. Books and clothes and everything else, along with borrowing money from the goblins. And then he just had to stay out of the way and let history take its course. Easy-peasy.

…Yeah right.

**How did you like it? **

**I'd love to get some reviews, or any feedback, really.**


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